


Home for Christmas

by AriadneKurosaki



Series: Deathberry Family [14]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Established Relationship, F/M, Just a whisper of angst, This is so sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28326180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriadneKurosaki/pseuds/AriadneKurosaki
Summary: It's Christmastime, and the Kuchiki and Kurosaki families have come together for a celebration. Years on from the war, Isshin's family has only grown, like the sparkling lights on a Christmas tree.And on Christmas Eve, Ichigo and Rukia find time for themselves, after a rough year in which the bitter nearly outweighed the sweet.
Relationships: Hitsugaya Toushirou/Kurosaki Karin, Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo, Kurosaki Yuzu/Original Male Character
Series: Deathberry Family [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891189
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49





	1. Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays!
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this Christmas fluff (and smut) featuring the Kuchiki-Kurosaki family. This is part of the Deathberry Family series. There is a little drop of angst here, but this fic is much more sweet than it is bitter. The second part should be posted sometime tomorrow.

“Ichigo, do you have the rest of the presents?” Rukia called from within their son’s bedroom. “We need to be at the manor in twenty minutes. Sumiye, are you ready?”

Ichigo poked his head out of the living area and stepped onto the engawa. “I have the presents and the reiatsu limiters,” he called back, and the expression on his face softened into a warm smile when Rukia stepped onto the engawa with their son. “For _everyone_.”

Rukia strode swiftly down the hallway and poked her head into Sumiye’s room. “Sumiye?”

“Coming, Kaasan.” The young shinigami had a large, taupe-colored bag over one shoulder and was trying to get the strap unwrapped from the hilt of her zanpakutō. “Sorry, this bag is a pain.” Her dark hair, so much like her mother’s, was pulled up into a fancy braid, but strands were starting to come free.

Rukia stepped in and helped her get untangled with her free hand before reaching up to brush the loose strands of hair from her daughter’s face. “You’re only staying with your grandfather for one night – why such a large bag?”

Sumiye dodged Masaaki’s flailing hand before it could grab for her bag. “Presents for the cousins,” she explained. “Yuzu Obasan said they really liked the chappy dolls you gave them last year, and the holiday accessory kits were on sale last week. Tousan and I bought a bunch for the children’s home, too.”

Her mother smiled, pleased, and then adjusted her hold on Masaaki. “That’s very thoughtful, Sumiye,” she said approvingly. Rukia led the way along the engawa, sandaled feet quiet on the polished floor. She was grateful for the roof overhead, though cold wind still whistled through the courtyard just beyond the platform. Rukia tugged Masaaki’s hood more firmly over his head.

When she reached Ichigo her husband leaned down and stole a kiss; he would have done more, she sensed, but Sumiye was just behind them. Masaaki grabbed for a lock of Ichigo’s long hair and he laughed as he dodged before pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead, too. “Come on, we’re going to be late and Byakuya will kick up a fuss,” he said.

“Nii-sama does not _kick up a fuss_ ,” Rukia protested, but a smile played on her lips as, over her head, Ichigo and their daughter exchanged a look that she was sure said _yes he does_.

Ichigo just picked up the two enormous bags of presents and they were off, using flash-step to get to the manor through the snow that was just beginning to fall. They came to a stop just outside the manor and right in front of the guards, Ichigo leaned down and kissed his wife again. “First snow,” he pointed out with an insolent grin when Rukia flushed and smacked his chest lightly. “We always kiss during the first snow of the season.”

“Ugh, you two are so _sappy_ ,” Sumiye complained and rolled her eyes fondly. She stepped around them and nodded to the Kuchiki family guards, who bowed in return and flung the gates open. Hauling along her bag, Sumiye strode further into the estate and unerringly toward the private senkaimon while her parents and little brother trailed behind her.

Byakuya was already waiting with a bag of his own: a sleek black tote from which elegantly-wrapped presents peeked out. “Sumiye,” he greeted calmly as his niece dashed into the small, bare room. He let out a faint grunt when she threw herself at him, but one arm came around her gently and the other rested on her head.

“Merry Christmas, Byakuya ojisama!” she called.

“Merry Christmas, Sumiye,” he murmured, and looked up as the rest of his family followed. “You’re late,” he pointed out.

Ichigo scowled, but Rukia just smiled apologetically and adjusted their son on her hip. “I’m sorry, Nii-sama. I was feeding Masaaki,” she explained.

The words softened Byakuya immediately, and when Sumiye stepped away, he held his arms out for his nephew. “Well. You’re not _very_ late,” he allowed as Rukia handed over the baby and Byakuya settled him on his own hip. “You’ve grown,” he said to the boy, who giggled and grabbed for _his_ hair too.

“Ah – sorry, Byakuya. He’s been grabby all week,” Ichigo apologized. “It’s his new favorite thing to do.”

“Hn.” The Kuchiki noble just settled Masaaki more securely on his hip and gestured to the nearby guard. “Open the senkaimon. We will return tomorrow evening,” he instructed.

“Oh! The reiatsu limiters,” Ichigo exclaimed. He pulled them from a pocket in his shihakusho and applied his first – a patch the size of his palm – then Rukia’s more modestly-sized one when she turned to face him. “Sumiye, you too. We don’t want a repeat of last time.”

The teenager rolled her eyes, but let her father place the snowdrop-shaped patch above her heart. “It wasn’t _that_ bad,” she protested.

Masaaki was last, and he squirmed in Byakuya’s arms as the patch adhered to his skin. Byakuya raised a eyebrow. “Masaaki needs one as well?” he asked curiously as Ichigo stepped away.

“Isane suggested it after he had a tantrum during his last check-up and knocked out several members of her division,” Rukia explained.

“At least _I_ never did that,” Sumiye muttered, and scowled _exactly_ like her father when Ichigo snorted in response.

“When you were born you knocked half the division over with your first cry,” he corrected. “Isane had to put a reiatsu limiter on you before you were five minutes old.”

“We’re already late,” Rukia snapped at them, though fondly, and Ichigo picked up his presents again.

“Rukia will you lead? Byakuya and Sumiye, you’ll be in the middle and I’ll bring up the rear,” Ichigo instructed.

Rukia leapt through the doorway as he’d instructed and Sumiye and Byakuya – still holding Masaaki – followed. Ichigo picked up the black tote of presents and leapt in after them, running along the path between worlds that led to Karakura – and the rest of their family.

Luck was with them: the cleaner was nowhere to be found, and they leapt into the World of the Living and Karakura without incident, landing just outside of Urahara’s shop. The blond shopkeeper was waiting for them and so was Yoruichi.

“Merry Christmas,” Urahara greeted, eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his hat and a grin stretching his lips. “Maasaki-tan, you’ve grown! He looks just like you, Ichigo.”

Byakuya tightened his hold on his nephew, and Yoruichi just laughed. “You’ve gone soft, Byakuya-bo,” she teased.

Urahara had a gigai ready for each of them, but he glanced at Masaaki again and fluttered his ever-present fan. “A moment, I need to adjust his. He’s gotten so big!” he cooed at the child, who clapped his hands and said, “Fan!” very loudly before grabbing for it. Urahara wasn’t fast enough, and soon the boy had the fan clamped in his mouth.

“That isn’t food,” Byakuya said calmly as he extricated the fan – paper surface torn and damp – from his nephew’s mouth and hands. “He is, I’m told, _grabby_.” He ignored Ichigo’s snort of amusement.

Soon enough, all five members of the Kuchiki clan were in their gigai and appropriately dressed for the winter season. Rukia adjusted her bright blue jacket and looked down at the heeled black boots she wore. “These look very nice,” she complicated. “Thank you, Urahara-san.”

The shopkeeper, waving a new – and unbitten – fan, just smiled. “Of course, Kuchiki-san. And now off you go! Tell your family Merry Christmas for me.” He waved them off to walk, suited against the cold, the several blocks from the shoten to the Kurosaki family home. Rukia held Masaaki this time and they walked along, Ichigo dragging along four different, heavy bags of presents and belongings.

Karakura was overcast but there was no snow yet; Rukia wondered if any was forecast. It would be nice to have a white Christmas here in the World of the Living as well. “Remember,” she said as they neared the door to the cozy family home, “Yuzu’s husband doesn’t know about shinigami. Nii-sama is a successful businessman from a wealthy family and I am a high-level administrator at his firm. Tousan is a former member of the military and the head of security.”

Sumiye huffed out a breath. “Why doesn’t anyone just _tell_ him about Soul Society? He’s _married_ to Yuzu obasan,” she muttered.

“We tried when you were younger,” Rukia admitted. “He didn’t take it well and we were forced to modify his memories.”

Their daughter huffed again, but then they were at the front door. Cheerful music greeted them as Yuzu opened the door, a beaming grin on her face. “Merry Christmas!” she called cheerfully and grabbed Sumiye into a hug. “Oh, you’re taller every time I see you, Sumi! Come in, come in.”

Obediently, the Kuchiki branch of the Kuchiki-Kurosaki family filed into the home, removing their shoes and coats.

“Ichi-nii!” Yuzu grabbed her brother in a hug next, one that made him grunt as he struggled with their bags. But he kissed his sister on the forehead and grinned at her before escaping to put the presents under the tree.

“Ichigooooo!” Isshin shouted, and Ichigo looked up to see his father coming towards him at a run. The former shinigami was sporting more white hair than the last time they’d seen each other, but he was also wearing the _ugliest_ Christmas sweater Ichigo had ever seen: neon green with black stitching that held colorful Christmas tree lights.

“Do they _light up?_ ” Sumiye asked in hushed horror as the lights blinked on and off. But Ichigo had other things to worry about.

“Damnit, old man! I have everyone’s gifts!” Ichigo yelled, and then jumped to the side so that Isshin crashed into the sofa instead. He nearly knocked over the tree, so unbalanced by the presents was he, and righted himself only when Sumiye grabbed his arm. “Thanks,” Ichigo grumbled and straightened up. “Help me put the presents out?”

“My son isn’t even happy to see me,” Isshin whimpered from where his face was wedged in the sofa cushions.

Byakuya shook his head at the spectacle, but politely greeted Yuzu with a kiss on the cheek after hanging up his coat and removing his shoes. “It’s good to see you, Yuzu,” he said calmly. Rukia was more enthusiastic, throwing an arm around her sister-in-law and hugging her close as Masaaki grabbed for his aunt’s earrings.

“Ichi-nii!” Karin grinned up at her brother as he straightened up from scattering presents around the tree. Her arms came around him in a hug and then she kissed her niece on the cheek before staring at her father and muttering, “Goat-chin’s still at it after all this time. Come on, old man, let me help you off the sofa.”

Once he’d been rescued from the cushions, Isshin leapt to his feet and rushed to Rukia. “Third daughter!” he cried happily. “And is that my grandson? Oh, Masaki, look at how our family has grown!” That last statement was directed at the enormous poster that _still_ hung in the dining area of his home.

Rukia just smiled fondly as her father-in-law hugged her, and she carefully handed over Masaaki. “He’s grabby,” she warned, as her son immediately tried to pull one of the lights off of Isshin’s sweater.”

Isshin, whose hair was nearly all white now, clutched his grandson close and rubbed his cheek against the head of bright orange hair. “He can grab whatever he wants, I’m just so glad he’s here,” he said in a near-wail of happiness. Yuzu and Byakuya moved further into the cozy little home, Yuzu saying something about her husband Tadeko’s latest project. When they were alone, he looked down at Rukia and asked far more seriously, “Are you fully recovered from having him? Ichigo said it was difficult this time around.”

As if he’d heard them, Ichigo looked over and his eyes met Rukia’s. The expression on his face was soft and a little worried, but then he just nodded gently and went back to placing wrapped and beribboned gifts around the tree. “It was a lot more difficult than with Sumiye,” Rukia admitted softly. “I was on bed rest for almost three months of the pregnancy and the delivery was…” She shuddered. Even being impaled by Aaroniero’s trident hadn’t been as painful. “Awful. But I’m _fine_ now. Isane gave me a clean bill of health.”

Isshin’s free hand came down to rest on her slender shoulder and squeeze gently. “Good,” he said emphatically, and then the goofy expression was back. “I get to see my grandchildren for two whole days! Sumiye will be bunking with her cousins in the girls’ old room, and Yuzu and Tadeko will be in Ichigo’s old room. And Karin and—”

“Ah, Rukia,” a low voice said a little nervously, and Rukia turned. Hitsugaya Toshiro was standing in the doorway wearing a gigai in a charcoal winter coat and dark jeans.

“Toshiro,” she greeted, puzzled. “Is something wrong? Is there an emergency?”

But her fellow captain suddenly blushed to the roots of his snow-white hair.

Oblivious, probably willfully, to Toshiro’s nerves, Isshin beamed at his former subordinate. “Come in, come in! Karin told me you were hoping to spend Christmas with her. I was just telling Rukia that you and Karin will be staying in my bedroom tonight.”

Rukia’s violet eyes widened. “I didn’t realize that you and Karin were seeing one another,” she said carefully, and glanced toward Ichigo. “Does Ichigo know?”

“Toshiro!” Ichigo left Sumiye’s side to join his wife in the entryway. “Is everything okay back home?”

“Ah.” Toshiro scrubbed a hand through his hair nervously. In the years since he’d first come to the World of the Living he’d gotten taller, and – Rukia pursed her lips. In the past year he’d fully accepted his _adult_ self, the one that she had seen when he used his true bankai. “Everything’s fine in the Seireitei,” he reassured Ichigo. “I uh – Karin invited me for Christmas, actually.”

Ichigo’s expression darkened, but then he looked to Rukia, whose hand found his and squeezed gently, and his father, who was busy cooing at his grandson. And a smile curved over his lips. “Great,” he said. “Good to have you with us this year.”

Toshiro pulled his coat off, revealing a teal dress shirt, and toed his black shoes off. “Thank you, Ichigo,” he said, and nodded his thanks to Rukia as well.

Soon enough the family was gathered around the dining table for lunch. Sumiye was the oldest of Isshin’s grandchildren, and she sat next to Karin, who was between her niece and her _boyfriend_ , as Yuzu teased gently. Rukia and Ichigo were at the other end of the table with Masaaki in a high chair, while Yuzu’s two children – twelve and eight – sat between their mother and father. Byakuya and Isshin sat next to each other, across from Karin and Toshiro.

“Ichigo,” Tadeko greeted genially as he passed along a filled bowl of Yuzu’s curry. “How goes the security work?” He was younger than Ichigo by three years, and wore his dark hair cropped close. The glasses on his face were new – but then, the man was close to forty.

“It’s good,” Ichigo said after setting the bowl in front of Rukia. “We had a breach a few months back, but our systems held, and my men are keeping things safe while I’m here for a few days. How’s the writing?”

Tadeko passed another bowl along and Ichigo set it on his own placemat. “Slow, this time around. The university ended my sabbatical early because they’re short-staffed, and I’m balancing writing with teaching three classes,” he explained.

“But Tadeko’s last book sold _really_ well,” Yuzu exclaimed. “And it’s shortlisted for a really prestigious writing prize.”

“That’s wonderful,” Rukia exclaimed, though she was trying to get Masaaki to eat his meal. He knocked over the bowl of peas onto his high chair, and she sighed gently. “Masaaki, food belongs _in_ you, not all over you.”

Ichigo’s leg brushed against hers gently before he offered, “Want me to try?”

Her cheeks heated. “He’ll eat, he just needs coaxing,” she protested. A few minutes later, a handful of smashed peas hit Tadeko in the face, and Ichigo covered his mouth to hide his amusement. “I’m so sorry!” Rukia exclaimed, cheeks flushing bright red.

Tadeko gamely wiped his face of the flecks of green peas with a napkin, and smiled at his in-laws. “Please don’t worry, Rukia. Aiko had a phase where she threw food as well,” he reassured her. The daughter in question huffed in embarrassment before digging further into her bowl of curry.

Ichigo ruffled Masaaki’s hair. “It’s been a while since Sumiye was this little. Guess we’re both getting used to having a baby again,” he said a little ruefully. “Rukia, you should eat before your food gets any colder. I’ll take over,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

He got a few peas thrown at _him_ , too, for his trouble, but eventually Rukia’s curry was eaten and Masaaki ate _most_ of his lunch.

Clean up with twelve people didn’t take very long, and soon the family was gathered in the living room. Sumiye, entranced by the video games that her cousins had brought with them, was soon learning how to play some kind of racing game on the television. Rukia curled up against Ichigo as they chatted with their family, catching up on six months’ worth of news.

Eventually, Isshin pointed out, “You two should check into your hotel if you still want to make your dinner reservation,” and Rukia surfaced from the doze she’d slipped into.

“Hotel?” she asked and glanced up at Ichigo.

“Hn. Thought it might be nicer than spending the night on the living room floor,” he explained, “and Tousan offered to babysit Masaaki tonight.” Rukia’s surprise must have shown on her face, because he grinned down at her. “It’s Christmas _Eve_ , remember?”

Ah. Christmas Eve in the World of the Living was for couples, she recalled. The last few years, they’d only been able to spend Christmas Day with their family. And Soul Society didn’t bother with such frivolity. Rukia hummed her agreement and when Ichigo rose she took his hand to lever herself off of the deep sofa. Sumiye grinned at them and even Byakuya unbent enough to say, from where he had Masaaki tucked up next to him, “Have a good time this evening” as they slipped their shoes back on and gathered their things.

Ichigo pulled out a phone and summoned a car with a few taps on the screen, and in just a few minutes he ushered her into the back seat of a nicely-appointed black sedan.

“You didn’t say anything about staying in a hotel tonight,” Rukia pointed out once their driver pulled away from the curb.

His hand engulfed hers and squeezed lightly. “We can still go back and sleep on the living room floor if you want,” Ichigo joked.

“Hmm, no. I’m just surprised,” she murmured and leaned against him. Ichigo’s hand left hers so that he could wrap an arm around her instead, and they passed the rest of the short drive in silence.

The driver let them off under the awning of a modern-looking hotel in the nicer part of downtown Karakura, and they gathered their belongings before wishing him a Merry Christmas and stepping into the hotel lobby. Immediately, some of the tension left Rukia’s muscles. There was a decorative waterfall flowing on one side of the enormous space, and soft piano music filtered through the air.

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” he said when they reached the reception desk. “We have a reservation for this evening.”

The hotel employee, dressed smartly in a navy blue suit with little golden wreaths hanging from her ears as a nod to the season, bowed briefly in greeting. “Thank you, Kurosaki-sama. Just a moment while I confirm your reservation.” Her nails clicked lightly on the keyboard and then she quickly scanned two plastic cards and placed them in a small folder that she pushed across the desk. “Your room is on the tenth floor. Once you step off the elevator, turn right and your room is at the very end of the hallway. Please enjoy your stay, and Merry Christmas.”

They walked hand in hand through the lobby and then into the stainless-steel elevator. “This looks like a nice hotel,” Rukia remarked as the elevator doors shut and they began to rise.

“It’s supposed to be,” Ichigo agreed. “Yuzu checked it out for me.”

The walk down the hallway on the cushioned carpet was a short one, and then Ichigo opened the door to their room for the night.

“Oh,” she said quietly, looking at the expansive, _quiet_ space. “Yuzu chose well.”

“Looks that way,” Ichigo agreed.

Their room was more like a suite, with a nicely-appointed seating area and a set of double doors leading into the bedroom. Though the hotel’s aesthetic was modern, with solid colors and abstract artwork, the sofa and bed both looked so _soft_ that Rukia just wanted to lie down and take a nap. She peeked into the bathroom as Ichigo set the bag holding their clothing and toiletries on the bed; the bathtub was _enormous_ , big enough for two, and the walk-in shower had a rain feature overhead.

When she shut the door of the bathroom and turned back toward Ichigo, he’d tugged the comforter down and was perched on the bed with his arm stretched toward her, hand out to take hers. Rukia just smiled and went to him, accepting first his hand and then the way he tugged her close, holding her tight to him. “Are you okay?” she asked finally.

“Yeah. I just love you,” he said gently, and kissed her temple. “And it’s been a…rough year.”

That was an understatement. Besides her difficult pregnancy, they’d nearly lost Sentarou to hollow incursion in the Rukongai, and the Seventh… Rukia tucked herself closer to him and they fell back onto the bed, holding one another close. “It has,” she agreed softly.

“Dinner’s in two hours, if you’re up to it,” Ichigo said after they’d lain together for a while, twining reiatsu dulled but not entirely dampened by their gigai. “It’s a nice place not far from here.”

“Mhm. Is that why you snuck my green cocktail dress into our bag?” she asked.

“Saw that, did you?” he asked, and pressed a kiss against her neck. “Yeah, and I brought the green tie that matches it.”

“You’re volunteering to wear a _tie_?” Rukia asked and turned her head to look into his eyes.

“Yeah,” Ichigo huffed, but his dark amber eyes were soft as they met hers. “It’s Christmas Eve after all.”

“Captain Commander Kyouraku asked you to take on the Seventh, didn’t he?” Rukia asked after a long moment.

“He did,” Ichigo acknowledged, and stroked a hand along her back. “I told him I needed time to think about it and talk with you.”

“Well you have to take it, of course,” Rukia exclaimed, but her heart sunk a little at the idea of no longer having him as her lieutenant.

“Hn. Do I?” he asked, and brushed his lips against her neck. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you without a lieutenant again. Sentarou still doesn’t want the job.”

Rukia shivered and pressed closer to him. Between the toll first pregnancy and then delivery had taken on her body, sleepless nights with a new infant, and their work responsibilities, they hadn’t done more than kiss in _months_. “But you’d make a great captain,” she murmured as his lips drifted along her skin and gentle, callused fingertips stroked her arm. “And the Seventh needs a leader.”

“Hn.” Ichigo looked up at her and steadily, his hand drifted lower to slip under her shirt, laying gently against the skin of her stomach. “It does,” he agreed. “But you need support. I don’t want you to go back to working late into the night trying to do two jobs by yourself.”

The words pricked at her. “Do you think I’m suddenly _incapable_ , Ichigo?” she asked acerbically. “I did both jobs even before Ukitake died, and then for five more years after that.”

The hand on her stomach twitched and Ichigo lifted himself up to press his lips to hers. “Don’t pick a fight,” he chided softly. “Of course you’re capable. But you worked harder than everyone else, and I had to scheme with Sentarou just to make sure you ate and slept. I don’t want you to go back to that just for the sake of my _career_.”

Mollified, Rukia leaned up to kiss him for a while, stalling their conversation in favor of feeling his lips move against hers; stalling it in favor of feeling the way his hand drifted lower, stroking against the hem of her skirt. “Do you _want_ to be a captain?” she asked after a while, as Ichigo’s fingers sought out the zipper to loosen her skirt.

“I like that we’re a team,” he said instead of answering her directly. “It’s always been you and me.” His fingers finally found the zipper and her skirt loosened. She was wearing tights, too, to protect her legs from the cold, and Ichigo trailed his fingers along the stretchy waistband.

“We’ll still be on the same _side_ ,” she pointed out, breath stuttering when his fingertips slid into her tights and beneath her underwear too. But he just pressed, gently, against her mons, and Rukia tugged him closer. “Aren’t you going to touch me?” she finally asked, need making her voice husky.

And Ichigo – well. He leaned in to kiss her again. “Can I?” he asked, though his fingers were already dipping lower and finding the wet heat of her core. One fingertip brushed against her clit ever so lightly, sending her hips arching off the bed and up toward his hand. He dipped lower, gathering her slick on his finger before sliding back up.

“Please.” The word was gasped, and she shivered when he did it again.

His hand withdrew and she scowled at him, but Ichigo brought his finger up to his mouth and licked. “Delicious,” he judged as Rukia blushed, and then his hands were on her again, stripping her of her skirt and then of the tights and underwear too. She pulled her shirt off impatiently and squirmed to help her husband get her tights off. His shirt followed, flung to the floor near hers, and so did his pants, but then Ichigo arched over her, lean body covering hers while his dark eyes watched her. “Let me take care of you for a while,” he murmured, and kissed her.

“Wait,” she said softly, and Ichigo drew back so he could look at her properly.

“I won’t do anything you’re not ready for,” he told her, as if they hadn’t been lovers for nearly twenty-five years.

Her cheeks flushed. “It’s not that. It’s – I don’t want our first time in _months_ to be in gigai.” She got a crooked grin for that, and they left the bed long enough to slip out of their false bodies, leaving them twined on the sofa in the next room.

“I get to undress you again,” Ichigo teased as the doors into the bedroom closed behind them.

He made quick work of their shihakusho, but for a long time in the soft light of the hotel room they just kissed, until Rukia was shivering against him with flushed skin and taut nipples that only got harder as they brushed against the warm skin of his chest. She flung her leg around his hip to bring him closer and Ichigo grinned against her mouth as he rocked against her, making her gasp.

And Ichigo took seriously his promise to take care of her: the next time their lips parted he slid down, pressing kisses to her breasts and closing his lips around one nipple to suck as he looked up at her to watch her reddened lips drop open on a little gasp, on soft moans. Ichigo arched into her hands when her nails bit into his back, and then he was on the move again, paying the same attention to her other breast before he slid lower as she watched, eyes dark and wide.

Ichigo settled between her spread legs, hands warm as they found the curve of a hip, the crease of a thigh. The first press of his mouth against her pussy, just a light kiss, still had her arching up to him, and when Rukia leaned up on her elbows she could see his smirk, could feel the way his shoulder-length hair brushed over her bare thighs. “Let me take care of you,” he said again, and smirked once more at her suddenly breathless, “Uh-huh.”

It had been – a long time. Every touch of his tongue on her skin, dragging through soft folds and finding every drop of her slick, made her gasp for him. His hands curved beneath her, cupping her ass to keep her pressed against his mouth as he worshiped her with his lips and tongue. Even so close he wasn’t close _enough,_ and Rukia flung her legs over his shoulders to drag him nearer.

“Let me hear you.” He whispered the plea against her skin when Rukia bit back her moans. His tongue brushed over her clit before his lips closed around the sensitive bud, and his name spilled broken from her lips, a hitched gasp and a moan that made him press closer to give her _more_.

Her head fell back against the bed as Ichigo worked her over, tracing shapes on her heated skin and licking into her so that she found herself gasping, telling him _please don’t stop_ and _just there, don’t stop, I need more_. She rocked up into his mouth and whined when Ichigo raised his head to look at her, mouth and chin wet with her.

“Do you think you can take my fingers?” he asked. At her frantic nod he lowered his mouth once more, but this time one finger, thick and blunt but coated in her slick, pressed gently into the core of her. He’d been right to ask: Rukia squirmed a little uncomfortably, and Ichigo looked up again, brow furrowed. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No – just – just don’t rush,” she whispered, and her husband smirked.

“No danger of that,” he assured her, and dragged his tongue along her skin again. “I love making you feel good. Love watching you.” The words were mumbled against her skin as he sucked on her clit and pressed his tongue _just_ to one side, a sensitive spot that he knew would drive her higher. His finger moved, and this time it felt _good,_ it made her moan and buck for him so that he smiled against her skin again. “That’s it,” he whispered as he thrust once more.

He took his time with her, bringing her higher and pulling moans from her throat, then holding her close to the edge as he slid in another finger beside the first and stretched her open. All she could feel was his mouth hot on her and his fingers deep inside her, all she could hear was his breathing, his whispers telling her how much he loved her and wanted to make her feel incredible – how much he’d missed tasting her. His fingers crooked up, ever so carefully, and Rukia keened for him into the warm air, head thrown back and back arching as her fingers tangled in his hair and the bedsheets, seeking _more._

Then he whispered, “ _Come for me_ ,” and with a twist of his fingers and another press of his tongue Ichigo pushed her up, up and over –

The cry that tore from her throat was strained and almost inhuman. She came _hard_ , inner walls clutching at his fingers over and over as her entire body throbbed and pleasure shot through every nerve. Rukia’s toes curled and she bucked up to his mouth as she gushed for him. She sobbed his name when he licked her through it, making her ride her pleasure until she collapsed beneath him panting and gasping for air. The world went dark for a moment and when she opened her eyes again Ichigo was beside her, dragging the back of his hand over his mouth before he slid his arm around her to hold her as she shook and tried to catch her breath.

“I love you,” he whispered, and kissed her breasts, her neck, her flushed cheeks. His mouth found hers and he kissed her leisurely, thoroughly. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I love you too. That was—” Her cheeks darkened further. “I didn’t know how much I needed that,” Rukia admitted, and Ichigo chuckled softly and pressed another kiss to her lips.

“I know,” he agreed, and stroked his hand along her bare back. When she yawned, he kissed her forehead softly. “Rest a while before dinner,” Ichigo offered, as if she couldn’t feel how _hard_ he was against her.

“But what about…?”

“Hn. After dinner,” Ichigo whispered, and nuzzled against her. “I want to take my time with you.” His voice and warmth lulled her, and she drifted from the afterglow into sleep.


	2. Christmas Eve Night and Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo and Rukia spend Christmas Eve together, and join their family - and friends - for a Christmas day celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic got a little away from me. There's more smut, and way too many people crammed into the Kurosaki home. But I hope you enjoy it just the same.

“You _still_ don’t know how to tie your tie,” Rukia grumbled as she turned so that Ichigo could zip up her dress.

“It’s not like I have to more than a couple times a year,” Ichigo pointed out as he spun her around again. “And if it’s so bad, why don’t you fix it for me?”

She shook her head in amusement and tugged him down towards her so that she could do exactly that. “Hopeless,” she teased affectionately as her nimble hands created a Windsor knot and straightened out the tie. Rukia flipped his shirt collar back down and brushed her hands over it. “That’s better.”

“Thanks.” Ichigo stole a kiss from her and slipped his suit jacket on, then held her steady as she stepped into a pair of nude-colored pumps. The second kiss he stole almost made them late for dinner, but they eventually made it out of their room. Rukia tucked her arm around his as they took the elevator not down but _up_ , to the highest floor of the hotel.

The hostess at the door to the restaurant smiled in greeting and led them through the front room – packed to the rafters and _loud_ – to a smaller, quieter room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. The space was decorated like a winter wonderland, with white crystal lights hung from the walls and each table holding a white, wintry centerpiece. Their table, close to one of the windows, held a low bowl filled with water. White tea lights floated in the water and cast a glow over the greenery and white flowers that surrounded the centerpiece.

Ichigo held her chair out for her before taking his own seat. Rukia skimmed the menu, but really she just had eyes for her husband, who was surreptitiously watching her over the menu. “You’re staring,” Rukia finally accused affectionately, and smiled when Ichigo’s leg pressed gently against hers.

“Because you look beautiful,” he murmured huskily. “And I’m starting to regret telling you that I could wait until after dinner.”

Rukia’s cheeks heated but she hid a laugh behind the thick, faux-leather menu. “You make it sound like we haven’t been together for decades,” she protested. “It’s not like there’s anything _new_ here.”

But Ichigo raised an eyebrow at her and his leg shifted again, knee lightly brushing against her inner thigh. “There’s still _new_ , sometimes _._ And even if there wasn’t, I’ll still feel the same way when we’ve been together for centuries,” he said, keeping his voice low so that the other couples around them couldn’t hear.

And if Rukia wanted to melt a little at hearing that, well – who could blame her?

Two champagne flutes full of sparkling, pale red liquid showed up at the table without their ordering it, and the young woman who brought them gave a little bow and explained politely, “We are offering each of our couples a welcome drink this evening. Thank you for joining us.”

“Thank you,” Rukia said cheerfully, and when they’d ordered their meal from the set menu, they toasted one another and sipped. The drink was fizzy and sweet, with a hint of raspberries and only a faint bite of alcohol.

“It’s stronger than it looks,” Ichigo warned when she took another, longer sip.

Rukia set the glass down and rubbed her leg against his lightly. “What’s in it?”

“Champagne and raspberry liqueur,” Ichigo explained. “It tastes sweet but it can sneak up on you.”

She hummed thoughtfully, but her next sip was from the goblet of water next to the champagne. “Do you think Sumiye and Masaaki are getting on alright at your father’s?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I’m sure they’re fine. Sumiye’s almost an adult, and you know how protective Byakuya gets. He won’t let anything happen to them,” Ichigo reassured her. His words didn’t fully soothe her, but Rukia took a deep breath and another sip of champagne to relax herself.

By silent agreement they didn’t order more alcohol, but fell into a more comfortable conversation as first their appetizers and then entrees arrived. But finally Rukia prodded gently, “We didn’t finish talking about the Seventh, earlier.”

Ichigo grimaced, but set his chopsticks down and swallowed his bite of steak. “I don’t really know what to do, Rukia,” he said quietly. “There isn’t anyone in the Thirteenth who’s ready to be your lieutenant, and the Seventh…well. The Seventh is decimated.”

Her lips pursed. “Is it really that bad? I know they lost Iba and Nishimura, but surely the officers can pick up the slack until you find a lieutenant.”

But he shook his head. “I don’t know what Kyouraku’s said to you and the other captains, but when I met with him yesterday he said that they have less than half the division left. Four other seated officers died, and a lot of the unseated ranks did too. Others have been putting in for transfers. It’s left the seventh seat trying to hold it together. Nanao is helping, but it’s not great.”

Rukia pursed her lips. “I didn’t realize it was that bad,” she admitted after taking a sip of water. “Did he say whether he’s considering any other candidates?”

“Yeah – Renji and Shuhei. But he made the offer to me, first.” Ichigo ate some of the mushroom risotto from his plate and shrugged. “Byakuya might not like it, but his bench in the Sixth is deeper than ours in the Thirteenth, and Muguruma will still have Mashiro.”

Around them the conversation of other couples ebbed and flowed, and the sound of chopsticks clinking against plates filled in the silence in between. There was an excited cry from the far end of the room and when Rukia glanced up, a young woman was shaking as she excitedly held her hand out for her boyfriend – fiancé – to place a ring on her finger. The diners nearest the newly engaged couple’s table applauded politely, and Ichigo and Rukia joined in.

When Rukia returned her attention to Ichigo, she sipped the last of her champagne, eyes narrowing in thought. “It does seem like there are other options,” Rukia agreed. “Though I don’t think Renji wants to be a captain. But what do _you_ want? Do you want to lead your own division? Forget about what the Thirteenth needs for a minute.”

Ichigo huffed out a breath. “Hard to forget about that when all I’ve focused on for twenty years are you, our family, and our division,” he pointed out, though his voice was still soft. “But…yeah, I’d like to run a division someday. But it means less time with you.”

“You really do like to live in my pockets,” Rukia said with a laugh, but she reached across the table and twined her hand with his. “We’ll _make_ time. Just because you can’t watch me do paperwork anymore doesn’t mean we’ll be apart _all_ the time.”

“What if there wasn’t a Seventh Division anymore?” Ichigo asked, and Rukia blinked at him incredulously. “Listen, they’re down so _many_ men, and even if every trainee in the academy joined the Seventh, the division wouldn’t be filled out.”

“You want to tell Kyouraku to just eliminate the division altogether?”

Ichigo shook his head. “Well – sort of. But what if the Seventh and the Thirteenth merged and we were co-captains? I know it’s a crazy idea, but we could make it work. The Thirteenth always had co-third seats anyway until Kiyone became a lieutenant; we could integrate the seated officers.”

“It’s the Gotei _Thirteen_ ,” Rukia pointed out, and Ichigo shrugged again.

“It is, and there haven’t been co-captains before. But it’s just an idea. If Kyouraku doesn’t like it, he can ask Shuhei to take on the job.” Ichigo rubbed her leg again. “You should eat the rest of your meal before it gets cold,” he suggested.

“Hn. I like the idea, but you know how the old men get when it comes to anything new,” Rukia murmured, and picked up her chopsticks.

“What if your brother backs us?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nii-sama is really very… _traditional_. And he wasn’t entirely thrilled when you became my lieutenant. He didn’t like that we were _fraternizing._ ”

“It’s not fraternizing if you’re _married._ And he came around when he realized what we’ve built together,” Ichigo protested mildly.

What they’d built together was a thriving division – and Rukia didn’t want to give that up. She understood why he didn’t, either. “Let’s talk to him about it when we get back home. No business on Christmas morning.”

“Yeah.” They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence and walked back to their room, stopping briefly at the newly engaged couple’s table to offer their congratulations and good wishes.

“They’re _young_ ,” Ichigo said with a little laugh when they were in the elevator and his arm was draped around her. “They might be younger than I was when you agreed to marry me.”

“Hn. Almost children. Pretty couple, though,” Rukia agreed, and shivered as the elevator doors let in cold air when they opened on their floor. The hallway was _cold_ compared to the restaurant.

They hurried along to their room and once inside, Ichigo turned up the heater – their room wasn’t _nearly_ warm enough – and then sought out the tea set he’d glimpsed.

Soon enough there was a pot of tea brewing while they put their fancy clothes away and changed into their nightclothes. Rukia checked her denreishinki and flushed brightly. “Oh,” she said, and showed Ichigo the text message from Byakuya. “We ah – we should stay in our gigai for the night.”

_Please refrain from removing your gigai again until we return them to Urahara. Even with reiatsu limiters, whatever activity you were engaged in attracted several hollows to Karakura. They have been dealt with._

Ichigo’s whole face turned red, but he tugged her into his arms and pressed his chest against her back gently. “Gigai it is, then,” he agreed, and leaned down to press a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Have some tea with me?”

“Mhm.” She settled on the sofa and smiled up at him when he brought over a full pot and poured the steaming, light brown hojicha into a pair of delicate porcelain cups. Before Rukia could pick her cup up, however, Ichigo gently placed a little box wrapped in shimmering blue paper onto her lap. “What’s this?” she asked and leaned up to kiss him.

“Merry Christmas,” Ichigo murmured, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Go ahead and open it.”

The ribbon and paper were easy to remove, and Rukia opened the white box they revealed. There was another box inside, this one covered in black velvet. “Oh,” she whispered when she opened the velvet box. Nestled inside was a circular pendant on a white gold chain. The circle of white gold connected to the chain held a polished piece of black onyx with curved points radiating outward to depict a black sun. Set along the left side of the pendant, overlapping the onyx, was a crescent moon of sparkling white diamonds, and two tiny diamond stars were nestled in the middle. “This is beautiful, Ichigo,” she told him, and leaned up to press her lips to his.

His hands came up to cup her face and keep her close as they kissed, and when they parted Ichigo rested his forehead lightly against hers. “I’m glad you like it,” he murmured.

“My gift for you is in the bedroom, still,” Rukia admitted, and when Ichigo smirked at her she smacked his chest lightly. “Not _that_ , idiot.” Then his hand brushed against her hip and she blushed. “Well, that’s not the _gift_ ,” she amended.

He chuckled and dropped his head to gently nuzzle at her neck, lips pressing lightly at the pulse point beneath her jaw and then the join of her shoulder. Rukia’s hand brushed through his hair and they settled on the sofa again, curling up together. Eventually, Ichigo broke away from her long enough to reach for the tea and they sat together in the quiet. The still-warm tea was soothing as Rukia lounged on the sofa with her husband, settled against his side with her feet up on the cushions and his hand stroking gently against her waist.

Wrapped in each other’s warmth and the warming room, she dozed off again, and he did too, until the rest of the tea in the pot was cool. “Come to bed with me?” Rukia asked when she woke up again just after midnight and nudged her husband awake too. Ichigo stretched and his arm tightened around her as his eyes opened fully.

“Mn. Yeah,” he agreed, and untangled himself from her as he stood. Rukia raised an eyebrow at him, but then smiled when he reached for her and helped her to stand. They ambled into the bedroom and then into the bathroom for their decidedly _less_ than romantic evening rituals, but when they were done Ichigo picked her up and carried her, one arm beneath her knees and the other against her back, to the rumpled but enormous bed.

Rukia rolled close to him when he returned from dimming the lights and relaxed back into his warmth as his hand trailed soothingly along her back. “How tired are you?” Ichigo asked, lips pressing against the top of her head lightly.

“Hm, not _so_ tired,” she murmured back, and looked up to meet his eyes. “And I think you promised to take your time with me.”

The smile that spread over his lips was one that only Rukia saw, sweet and a little heated as well. “I did.” And Ichigo found her mouth with his so that he could kiss her thoroughly as one hand slid beneath her pajama top to touch the warm skin of her back.

They kissed until they were both breathing unevenly, languid but heated on the soft sheets. “Touch me,” Rukia demanded against his lips, and gasped when Ichigo’s hand slid down to squeeze the curve of her ass instead of brushing chastely against her back. She arched into him, hips pressing to his, and Ichigo chuckled softly.

“Do you need me?” he asked, gently teasing, and pulled back so that he could pluck at the buttons of her soft cotton top. When it sagged open Ichigo slipped a hand in and cupped one of her breasts, still fuller than before her second pregnancy. His thumb brushed against her nipple and Rukia’s jaw slackened as she gasped for him. “Oh I think you do…” Ichigo’s other arm dragged her closer and then he leaned down to kiss her pale skin, dragging his lips down to her breasts so that he could tease and taste her with lips and tongue.

“Y-yes,” Rukia agreed, lips parting on another gasp when his lips closed around a nipple and sucked. This time she refused to just let _him_ please _her_ ; her hands dropped to the waistband of his pajamas and stroked along the edge of the fabric teasingly before one hand dipped inside. He was already starting to get hard for her, and when Rukia wrapped her hand around the growing length of him, she couldn’t help but grin at the way Ichigo’s breath hitched. “I missed touching you,” she admitted.

His voice was husky as he groaned for her, hips bucking to get more of him into her hand. “I missed having your hands on me,” Ichigo whispered back against her skin. He pushed her top down her shoulders and then dragged his shirt off so that he could press against her skin to skin and kiss her again, licking into her mouth while he dragged her pajama bottoms off. “I want to lick you again,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you scream for me when you come.”

Her hand tightened around him and Ichigo tugged her closer, one hand tightening on her ass. “Are you?” Rukia asked a little breathlessly, shivering when he dragged a hand up her body and dipped his thumb into her mouth. She sucked, nipping at the pad, and savored the way his breath hitched again.

“Mhm. And then do you know what I’m going to do?” he asked, fingers sliding down her body as she tugged at his pajamas, pulling them down far enough that he could kick them off.

“What?”

Ichigo’s eyes were honeyed amber as he looked at her, with pupils were blown wide. “Then,” he said, and brushed his thumb over her clit so that she gasped and grabbed for him, “I’m going to fill you up with my cock and take my time so that you come again...” His lips found her neck, “and again.”

“ _Oh_ ,” she whispered, and her eyes drifted shut as his fingers circled her clit, pulling another moan from her lips.

“Like that?” he asked, and pressed his lips to hers when she gasped in answer, hand gripping her hip when she tightened hers around his length.

“Want to taste you too,” Rukia murmured against his mouth and grinned at the way his cock twitched in her hand.

“Come here, then.” Ichigo rolled them so that he was on his back and kissed her once more.

She grinned down at him and let go of his cock long enough to reverse herself, knees falling to either side of her husband’s head as she draped herself over his chest and stomach. His cock bobbed and twitched before her. Warm hands pulled her closer, and then Ichigo’s tongue _licked_ , long and slow so that she gasped out his name.

He gasped the first time _she_ licked _him_ , and Rukia’s lips curved in a sly smile before she took him into her mouth, enveloping him in wet warmth that made him buck up towards her until she pinned his thigh with her forearm. He was _so_ hard, already leaking precum, and she knew she could make him fall apart like this if she wanted to. Maybe even before he could make _her_ fall apart. When his lips closed around her clit and sucked, Rukia moaned for him and arched back, silently demanding more.

And oh – he gave her more, using lips and tongue to please her as Rukia sucked, one hand wrapping around the base of his cock and stroking the length of him that couldn’t fit in her mouth. Moans and occasional curses met her ears, and she smirked, taking as much of him as she could so that he shouted for her and his cock leaked. She licked him up, bobbing up and down and listening for the way his breath hitched, feeling for the way his cock jerked.

But Ichigo didn’t want to be outdone; a finger dragged through her slick and then slipped inside, and it was all Rukia could do to focus as he drove her higher once more. A second finger followed and she keened for him, the sound muffled by his cock even as she pushed back toward him, heat washing over her at the feel of his tongue, of his fingers thrusting and stretching her.

When a third finger tapped lightly at her entrance, she raised her head and whispered, _“Please_.” Then stifled her cry against his skin as all three pressed into her. He was right: she did scream when she came for him, legs suddenly weak above him as he sucked on her clit and pressed his fingers _just so._ She clenched around his fingers while her hand stroked his cock – but Rukia pulled her mouth away so that he could hear her moans and the choked gasp when his fingers pressed again and a fresh wave of slick dripped from her.

Even so many years later Ichigo was still bigger and stronger than her; his hands closed over her hips inexorably and he grabbed for her, turning her and leaving her slick on her skin when she was perched above him. “Tell me what you need,” he urged, and rocked so that his cock, still rock hard, could rub against her and make her see stars.

“I want – mm – I want you to fuck me,” she whispered, eyes still hazed with pleasure and hips twitching when the head of his cock lodged against her clit.

“Mhm. Tell me how,” Ichigo coaxed, as he rocked again. “Just like this? Or do you want something different?”

“Want you covering me,” she whispered, and let him roll her again. His cock lodged at her entrance and when she tensed up Ichigo leaned in to kiss her, mouth working over hers until she relaxed again.

“Slow, remember?” he asked. “Let me take care of you.” His fingertips found her clit and Ichigo rubbed, oh so slowly, as he pressed inside of her.

He was bigger even than his fingers, and Rukia found herself clutching one of his hands as she stretched around him. Ichigo twined their fingers together and watched her, eyes dark with pleasure and need, as he filled her. “Okay?” he asked when he was fully sheathed inside of her, though his hand shook and he dropped his head down to gasp in air when she clenched around him.

“Y-yes, need you to _move_ ,” she begged, and hooked her legs around him.

“Together,” he urged, and held her close as he thrust, guiding them into a slow, sweet pace. She was tight around him, but it felt so _good_ that Rukia moaned for him, his name breathed into the air and pressed against his lips when he leaned in to kiss her again. Ichigo covered her with his body, and one hand stayed twined with hers as they moved together, finding one another again after so long without.

“Love you,” she whispered, and when he whispered the words back she wrapped her free arm around him and pulled him closer. “More,” she whispered, and Ichigo pushed deeper, circling his hips so that Rukia’s mouth dropped open from the pleasure of it.

“You feel so good,” Ichigo gasped out, and his hand slid between them to find her clit. “Gonna make you come for me again,” he promised. And Ichigo always kept his promises. His fingers circled and pressed, finding the sensitive spot just to one side of the swollen bud again, as he changed the angle of his thrusts and sped up.

Rukia held on, crying his name as the heat rose within her, as he drove her higher and higher and then _over_ , so that she buried her face in his shoulder as she came with another cry, inner walls clutching at him over and over. But though Ichigo moaned her name and rocked into her harder, he held himself back and grinned down at her when she opened her eyes again to look at him, panting and flushed.

“Let me try something?” he asked, as he rocked into her slowly. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Mm?” She tried to shake the hazed feeling. Then he whispered in her ear, and Rukia clenched around him reflexively.

“Oh, does that sound good?” Ichigo teased gently.

“ _God_ yes,” she muttered, though when his cock slid from her she tried to pull him back. But Ichigo knelt, thighs spread and the backs touching his calves, and gently pulled her with him.

“Use the headboard to brace yourself,” he murmured, and tugged her hips over his so that her legs were spread and she was facing away from him. “Like this, like this.” His words drifted, low and gravelly, in the room as Rukia held onto the cloth board while she lowered herself and Ichigo pushed his cock into her once more.

“Ah!” He felt even _bigger_ like this, and Rukia shook as he filled her. He held onto her hips and pressed kisses to her neck, to her shoulder, and then his hands drifted up to cup her breasts.

“Tell me,” Ichigo whispered, and his fingertips pinched her nipples ever so lightly. “Tell me how this feels.”

“So good,” she moaned, and her head fell back against his shoulder. “But I need – I need you to _fuck me._ ”

A shudder moved through him and Ichigo dropped his hands back down to her hips to lift her, to set the pace more urgently this time. “Like this?” he asked, and his mouth found her shoulder, leaving a red mark behind. “Touch yourself for me.”

This position, this angle – Rukia pressed back against him and panted, moans spilling from her. Like this, his cock pressed just right and made her want to scream for him. Her fingers found her clit and she rubbed just the way she liked as Ichigo rocked into her and took control entirely, hands searing on her skin as he sped up. “Yes – _yes_ , just l-like this, I need _more_ ,” she begged, and felt him grin against her.

But Ichigo was close, she could tell by the way he rocked more erratically, and he begged her, “Come for me again so I can fill you. Need you to come for me again.” Their bodies slid and pressed together, and Ichigo pushed her fingers away to rub instead, making her cry out for him.

When she fell over the edge again it was with a keening cry of his name, white-hot heat rushing through her and making her clench around him as her slick spilled from her pussy and over his thighs. Ichigo lost control, then, and when an arm wrapped around her waist Rukia groaned, brokenly, as he dragged her close and fucked up into her hard, _fast_ , until he came inside her, spilling into her as he called her name and then muffled his moans in her shoulder.

Eventually, they untangled themselves and fell together on the bed, both shaking and coated in a sheen of sweat. Ichigo pulled her closer and pressed his mouth to hers, telling her once more without words how much he loved her, how much he’d needed her. She was no different, lips meeting his and her legs twining with his as they panted together, riding the aftershocks.

Their breathing settled only slowly, and Rukia tugged the covers over them before snuggling in close with his arm around her. “How are you feeling?” Ichigo asked softly, when their hearts were slower. He brushed his fingertips against her cheek, cupping so he could meet her eyes.

“Mmn…” She smiled and curled closer to him. “I think we both _really_ needed that,” Rukia murmured. “I’m a little sore, but I feel so amazing that I don’t care.”

Ichigo snorted in amusement and his arm tightened around her. “We did,” he agreed. “Want me to run you a bath?”

She yawned, jaw cracking with the effort. “No, too tired. Just hold me until we fall asleep.”

“Always.” He settled in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Merry Christmas, Rukia.”

“Merry Christmas, Ichigo.”

It turned out she was more than just a _little_ sore, she discovered when she woke alone in bed. When she sat up, though, Ichigo poked his head out of the bathroom and smiled. “I’ve run a bath for you and we can go up to the restaurant for something to eat, since Tousan called and apparently we’re not expected for breakfast,” he said quietly as Rukia slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed. She wobbled a little when she stood, and Ichigo reached out to steady her.

“Did he say anything about Masaaki and Sumiye?” she asked, and flushed as a twinge reminded her of the previous night.

“Masaaki slept the _whole_ night,” Ichigo reported. “He drank almost a full bottle this morning and then threw his baby food at Toshiro.”

“Oh, I hope he’s not too angry,” Rukia muttered as she shook herself and walked into the bathroom. Ichigo followed, and leaned up against the sink as Rukia tested the water and then stepped in, lowering herself slowly into the hot water. “This _does_ feel good.” She glanced at her husband, who was still naked. “Want to join me?”

He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. “I’d better not. I’ll just want you again and we’ll never get back to the house.”

Rukia laughed against his lips and settled down into the water. “Are you sure? It’s _very_ nice.”

“Well.” Ichigo stepped into the tub and let out some of the water so it wouldn’t overflow. “I guess I should see for myself.”

They almost missed the breakfast cutoff at the hotel, but eventually a shockingly relaxed shinigami couple took a car back to the Kurosaki Clinic.

* * *

Across town, a white head of hair poked out from under the duvet. Toshiro rolled over and smiled as Karin opened her gray eyes and looked at him. A smile played on her lips, and then she said, “My brother is going to kill you when he realizes we slept in the same bed last night, you know.”

And Hitsugaya Toshiro, Captain of the Tenth Division and a man considered a prodigy of the Gotei 13, briefly wondered if he could sneak out of the Kurosaki home without anyone noticing. When he focused, he could sense Kurosaki – formerly Shiba – Isshin and Byakuya Kuchiki both downstairs, and both awake. The smaller presences of Ichigo’s children were awake as well. Sneaking, therefore, was unlikely to be effective. “Lieutenant Kurosaki is aware that I outrank him,” he said stiffly, and when Karin just looked at him skeptically, he rolled over and threw an arm around her. “And I hope he’s aware that you’re an adult.”

She smirked, and beneath the covers their legs twined together. “Maybe,” she said. “But you know how Ichi-nii gets.”

“Hn.” He tugged her closer, head resting on her shoulder for a moment. “Karin, about _this_ ,” he said meaningfully.

“Oh you’d better not be telling me you’re breaking up with me _after_ we spent the night together in my family’s home,” Karin threatened – and her voice was only half-joking.

His cheeks flushed and Toshiro lifted a hand to brush through her hair. “No, I’m not. But what we talked about – are you _sure?_ ”

“Hn. We _did_ talk about it,” she said, and tugged the duvet cover up higher. “Our choices are for you to take a leave of absence and beg Urahara for a gigai that ages like I will, or for me to – come with you now. I think I’d rather do the second. I don’t think Hyourinmaru would like to be stifled for so long.”

“Hn. I think he’d like me to be happy,” Toshiro guessed. “But no, probably not. What about your family?”

Karin hummed under her breath. “Won’t the Captain-Commander let me come see them, the way he lets Ichi-nii and Rukia-nee come visit? I know they can’t come as often as they like, but it’s not like I’ll ever have the responsibilities they do,” she pointed out.

“Probably,” Toshiro agreed. “They’ll throw their weight around and Byakuya will give you access to his private Senkaimon. But you’ll be separated from Yuzu and your nieces most of the time.”

“I know.” There was a melancholy tone to her voice. “But goat-chin will look after them until he’s one hundred and five, and I’ll come visit, whether Ichi-nii does or not.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “As long as you’re sure,” Toshiro said quietly.

Karin looked up at him from beneath dark lashes and then leaned in to kiss him properly, sending a bolt of heat running through his veins no matter that his reiatsu dampener was huge and that she was in a human body.

Then Sumiye burst in the door, saw her aunt and a _Soul Society Captain_ making out, and blushed bright red as she squeaked, “Breakfast’s almost ready!” before shutting the door quickly. Pounding footsteps down the stairs followed.

They pulled apart and fell back against the mattress. “Well,” Toshiro said. “I guess we’ll find out how Captain Kuchiki feels about this.” When Karin raised an eyebrow, he explained, “They’re thick as thieves. Ichigo and Rukia’s kids make him act almost like a normal person.”

Karin just laughed and rolled out of the bed. “We’d better get dressed before anyone else forgets how to knock.”

Breakfast was as chaotic as it was in the barracks, Toshiro decided when they came downstairs half an hour later. Great steaming bowls of rice sat on the table surrounded by various toppings including baked fish, natto, and an enormous pile of sliced tamagoyaki. “Karin! So late,” Yuzu complained, but then she saw Toshiro right behind her sister and her eyebrows rose meaningfully. “But we managed,” she added cheerfully. “Bring Masaaki’s food in from the kitchen, will you? He’s had his bottle but Rukia-nee said he should have a little solid food too.”

“Morning, Yuzu,” Karin said, and laughed when her sister just ran back into the kitchen muttering something about another fillet of salmon. But she gamely followed her sister and found the little plastic bowl of baby food. “Smells disgusting,” she muttered, but set it on the highchair.

Then it was breakfast time, and five humans, four shinigami, and one baby with enough reiatsu to knock over a truck sat down to eat breakfast. Rice was paddled into bowls and passed around; Toshiro handed out a ridiculous amount of tamagoyaki since the dish was closest to him. But as Yuzu smiled brightly and passed him a bowl with rice and fish, and the family quieted down after a murmured _itadakimasu,_ he thought that he would like being part of this human-shinigami family.

Of course, _Isshin_ would hear that from him over his dead body.

Then Masaaki upended his little green plastic bowl and threw a handful of baby food in his face, and Toshiro glowered as he reminded himself that Ichigo’s youngest spawn was too young to know any better.

“Tousan, remember we need you to go pick up the chicken dinner later,” Yuzu reminded as breakfast started to wind down and Toshiro finished wiping strained carrots off his face.

“Chicken dinner?” he asked curiously.

“Oh yes! It’s a Christmas tradition,” Yuzu said and beamed at him. “Every year we order fried chicken and lots of delicious sides. It’s wonderful, I don’t have to cook both breakfast _and_ dinner.”

“But – why fried chicken?” Toshiro glanced at Karin and Isshin, who was grinning.

“Because it’s a Japanese tradition!” his former captain exclaimed, as Byakuya – coffee in hand – swayed out of the way of an enthusiastically flailing hand. “For decades we have been eating fried chicken on Christmas day! Don’t worry, Yuzu, daddy ordered extra biscuits this year.”

His youngest daughter let out a breath. “Good. But you need to pick it up by one in the afternoon. It’s a _lot_ of food – maybe Toshiro can go with you?” she suggested.

Briefly, Toshiro wasn’t entirely certain that he wanted to be part of the Kurosaki-Kuchiki family. But then Karin smiled at him, and he thought that yes, he really did want to be part of this clan, of the boisterous Kurosakis and the proper Kuchikis. He even helped clear the breakfast dishes and put them in something Yuzu called a dishwasher.

Ichigo and Rukia returned late in the morning, sweeping into the house looking so relaxed that Karin and Yuzu nudged each other meaningfully. “Merry Christmas!” Rukia called as they stepped inside and took their shoes off. “Oh, there’s my Masaaki-tan. Did he behave?” she asked as Byakuya handed over her son. Ichigo dropped a kiss on his son’s forehead on his way to sitting down in the reclining chair closest to the Christmas tree.

“He threw strained carrots at Ca—Hitsugaya-san,” Sumiye reported from her place on the living room floor. “I guess he’s progressed from grabbing to throwing.”

Rukia looked around for an empty seat but Ichigo just held his hand out, and so she – blushing – settled in his lap on the chair and snuggled in when he wrapped an arm around her and their son. “I’m so sorry, Toshiro,” she apologized. “Masaaki doesn’t understand yet that he shouldn’t play with his food.” The baby in question burbled an incoherent series of syllables and grabbed for the necklace around Rukia’s neck, and she carefully peeled his fingers away.

Toshiro just smiled. “I know,” he said. “He has a good throwing arm.”

Ichigo covered his snort in Rukia’s back as the child made another grab. Aiming to keep his son from destroying the Christmas present, he lifted his arm and let Masaaki grab his fingers instead.

The doorbell rang again, and Yuzu jumped up to answer it. There was a little flurry of hellos and then the sound of shoes and coats being dispensed with. When Yuzu returned it was with not just Uryuu, Orihime and their son, whose cheeks were bright from the cold and hands still carrying bags of packages, but Shiba Kuukaku and Ganju.

Isshin was beside himself, crowing, “My Kuukaku-chan is here!” while the woman in question punched him in the stomach.

“Of course I’m here. Wouldn’t miss the family reunion. Would I, Kuchiki?” Kuukaku asked and grinned at Byakuya. “Merry Christmas! Now where is the newest Shiba?”

Byakuya’s eye twitched and his hand formed a fist on his lap. “ _Kuchiki_ Masaaki is with his mother, of course,” he said tautly.

“Tadeko, Toshiro, could you bring some extra chairs in from the dining room? Yuzu asked sweetly, before Kuukaku could pick a fight, and the two men in question jumped up to do as she requested.

Rukia stood with Ichigo’s help and smiled up at Kuukaku, offering Masaaki – Kuchiki, Kurosaki, Shiba – to hold. “Let me introduce you to Masaaki,” she said, and when the boy was balanced in Kuukaku’s arm, she reached out the other and ruffled Rukia’s hair, her touch surprisingly gentle.

“You and my cousin make pretty children,” the Shiba noble said, and grinned at her. “This one’s more like his father though isn’t he, with all that bright hair?”

“Bright hair and more power than he knows what to do with,” Byakuya intoned, since Tadeko was back in the dining room getting another chair.

“Oh Rukia-chan! He’s _beautiful_ ,” Orihime cooed as she hugged her old friend and then held out a finger for Masaaki to grab. “Congratulations!”

Rukia beamed, and the glanced down at Orihime’s rounded stomach. “To you too,” she said, and bent to give Souken a hug in greeting. Ichigo stepped past her to shake Ishida’s hand, and then she hugged him, too.

The doorbell rang again and Chad and Tatsuki joined them, the first holding Masaaki when it was his turn as though the baby were made of glass, and the latter slapping Ichigo on the back so hard that he pitched forward, silently cursing his gigai for being weaker than his soul form.

Soon everyone was clustered in the living room, three generations chatting and occasionally fighting. The pile of presents beneath the tree would have made any child’s eyes wide as saucers, and eventually Yuzu clapped her hands to call for quiet and, “Let’s open presents before lunch, everyone!”

The wrapping paper shed that morning was impressive, as Sumiye played Santa and delivered gifts to every member of the family, from Isshin to Masaaki, who shook the brand new rattle he received from the Ishidas until Rukia had to take it away before he could break it.

Once the presents were opened, Isshin and Toshiro left to pick up their dinner. A few minutes later Masaaki started crying, disturbed by all the noise, and Ichigo followed Rukia upstairs to put their son down for a nap. They stood together for a long moment as he fell asleep in the portable crib.

When Rukia’s eyes dampened, Ichigo was swift to cup her cheeks and brush them away. “Hey,” he whispered softly, “What’s wrong?”

And she beamed up at him, though her eyes were still damp. “Everyone’s here,” she said softly. “It’s Christmas, and our family, our friends – we’re all here.”

Ichigo wrapped her in his arms and looked down at their sleeping son; he listened to the excited chatter and bickering downstairs, and he kissed her forehead. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m glad that we’re all here, together. Glad I’m here with _you_.”

“Sap,” she called him before he kissed her.

“Ichi-nii! Rukia-nee! Where’d you guys go?” Karin called from the foot of the stairs.

They broke apart and, holding hands, walked back downstairs to their family.


End file.
